


Grace and Choice

by aveyune23



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, the elevator scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 01:22:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9100261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aveyune23/pseuds/aveyune23
Summary: I know that time has numbered my days... but I'll believe in grace and choice.
At the end of the line, Cassian Andor contemplates what he has left.





	

He knew it would end like this, honestly.

After all that had happened – after all that they had been through – his mind had only calculated one end, and this was it.

Blood dripping from his side, sight starting to wane, he looked down at the only thing he could keep in focus – her.

Funny that this was how it would end, descending rapidly towards his death with the one person that he last thought he would be with. She, who had irked him so when they had first met; the complication, the ever-present impetuous thorn in his side – here she was, holding him upright while the life bled out of him, eyes gazing into his with something that he couldn’t quite place.

The light flickered across her face, making it difficult to discern exactly what she was thinking. She had an easy face to read, and he had taken advantage of that over the last few days. But now…

Now, her face was lit up with the intermittent light of the lift, her eyes alternately bright and dark, depthless and shining. He thought, for a moment, that he saw himself in her eyes, and maybe, just maybe…

He thought about all they had been through in the past days, the arguments, the battles, the death and destruction they had left behind…

And then he remembered what they had accomplished: they had transmitted the plans. 

They had succeeded. They had done it.

And what was left?

Us, the thought appeared, and quickly vanished. But he grabbed it before it could flit away, and held onto it.

What if? He thought. Whatifwhatifwhatifwhatif–

Her breath was close to his skin. He felt it on his lips. 

What if–?

There was no point in wondering. No point in thinking about what it would mean. There was only here, and now, because he knew that there would be nothing after once they reached the ground.

So, throwing what was left of his life to the wind, he leaned in and touched his lips to hers, because why not? This was the end, and he felt so much – love? Probably not, but maybe, if there had been time. Respect, of course, and she had earned it. But mostly admiration – she was a remarkable woman, tough and resilient and so full of life.

And that was all that he had left to cling to.

She pressed back, hesitant. It was a small gesture, short and fleeting. But it spoke volumes.

Yes, it said. We are here, and we have done, and this is what’s left.

It wasn't much, but it was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> (Lyrics in summary from "Babel" by Mumford & Sons, happily found on Cassian Andor's official Spotify playlist)


End file.
